Code Geass: The Bourne Identity
by ModestoJoga
Summary: One man hunts for a way to bring down Britannia now he must gather the empires enemies to face the tyrannical emperor all while keeping his sanity and trying to protect those close to him.


Disclaimer: I don't own Code Geass or anything from the Bourne franchise.

Summary: One man hunts for a way to bring down Britannia now he must gather the empires enemies to face the tyrannical emperor all while keeping his sanity and trying to protect those close to him.

**Chapter One: Arriving**

The darkness of the night is reflected over the water in the oceans of Japan. A searchlight arcs across the heavy ocean swells. Half-a-dozen flashlights, weaker beams, are racing along the deck of an aging fishing boat.

On the deck a fisherman is struggling with a gaff, something in the water, to his shock is a human corpse. The body is now sprawled in front of him and two others. The Sailors all talking at once in hushed Japanese, brave chatter to mask the presence of death.

"Jesus, look at him" said the sailor than found the body.

"What?" said one sailor, "you never saw a dead man before? Britannians have left a lot laying in the ghettos"

"Look, look he was shot" said another sailor while nudging the body.

"Don't, don't do that" said the one that found the body.

"He's dead, you think he cares?"

"Have some respect it's a-" before he finishes the body moves

Convulsing, coughing up sea water, the Sailors, surprised, jump back standing there, as the man begins to breathe.

"Come lets get him to a bed" said the first sailor as he began to try to lift the man.

The three sailors carry the man to the boats mess hall. It's too small for all the people in here right now, one sailor sweeps off the table as rough hands lay the man down. The captain, an elderly Japanese man who is both brutal and impatient watches from the door as one of the three sailors' tears through the clutter: searching for a medical kit buried in the shambles.

"What's going here" said the Captain, his voice calm but stern.

"We found the man floating Captain Hiruzen" answered the sailor who brought the man aboard

Hiruzen moved passed the sailor and began searching for the medical kit, "It's here, hang on, it's here somewhere, give me a minute, get some blankets, get some blankets on him" he found the kit "here we go, here it is".

"We pick him up? Okay, we have to pick him up. But that's as far as it goes" said Hiruzen as he opened the medical kit.

"He needs a doctor" said one sailor.

"Fuck that he's probably Japanese if they through him out here to die. He lives? He dies? No one cares because he's an 'eleven' like us. Come were wasting time. You do what you can, but we're not going back. You understand me" said Hiruzen, his voice leaving little room for argument

"Yes, sir" answer the sailors.

"Let's get back to work, gentlemen"

Hiruzen watches them run out. Snagging a quick pull on a pint of rum he's got stashed and gets to work. Hiruzen and the other placed the man into a room. The room was soon transformed into a makeshift operating room. A light swings overhead. The man is lying out across the table. Sounds, groans, words snatches of them all in different languages.

Hiruzen is playing doctor in a greasy kitchen apron. Cutting away the clothes. Turning the man on his side. Two bullet wounds in the back. Probing them, judging them. Now with a flashlight in his teeth Hiruzen pulls something from the mans wounds, bullet fragments falling into a washed-out olive jar.

Something catches Hiruzen's eye, a scar on the man's hip, another fragment, with an exacto knife he is cutting the man, with tweezers he extracts a small plastic tube, not a bullet at all, and as it comes free the mans hands slam down onto Hiruzen's

"You're awake. Can you hear me?" asked Hiruzen as the man blinks, "You've been shot. I'm trying to help you. You were in the water. You've been shot. It's okay now".

"Where am I?" asked the man. His voice is labored but he speaks perfect Japanese.

"You're Japanese, got some Britannian in you form the look of you. I thought so. From your look-"

"Where am I?"

"You're on a boat. A fishing boat. Japanese flag. We're out of Kamine Island" said Hiruzen as he smiled, "It's the cold that saved you. The water. The wounds are clean. I'm not a doctor, but the wounds, it looks okay. It's clean".

"How did I get here?" asked the man.

"You we're lost at sea. They pulled you out" said Hiruzen reassuringly, "Who are you? You were shot, two bullets, in the back. You understand me? Who are you?"

There is a long dead pause between the two.

"Jeremiah Gottwald, my friends call me Orange or Chou".

-_Break_

The heavy fishing boat plows through heavy seas.

Hiruzen is hunched over a desk, tweezers and flashlight busy working at that strange plastic tube that came out of Jeremiah's hip. Jeremiah is bandaged. He's sitting up, and it must hurt like hell, but physical pain is not the thing troubling him right now. He's staring around the room, at his body, at the walls; he is troubled by something and it's not his wounds.

"Will you head back to the mainland?" asked Jeremiah

Hiruzen is still working on the tube but responds, "I told you. You need to rest"

Silence. Jeremiah can't rest. Too busy trying to make sense of all this.

"I need to find the people who did this to me" said Jeremiah angrily, "What are you doing?"

Hiruzen passes Jeremiah and begins rummaging around, finding a magnifying glass.

"What is that?" asked Jeremiah seriously.

Hiruzen looks at the plastic tube, written on it is a set of numbers and writing: 000-7-17-12-0-14-26. Ashford Academy, Area 11.

"It came from your hip. Under the skin" said Hiruzen while turning back to Jeremiah, "You have sister or kid in the Britannian school. You got family there?"

"No but I'm gonna find out what's going on"

Hiruzen looks at him suspiciously, "Look, I'm just on this boat, okay? I'm an engineer. Whatever this is, it's not for me to be involved, okay?"

"Don't worry, this is my business, I'll take care of it".

Hiruzen pulls his pint and takes a hit, he offers the bottle, "You drink rum?"

"I don't, it weighs the soul down" says Jeremiah as he walks out of the room.

It is still night and Jeremiah stands at the rail of the boat, staring out to sea. So lost. He turns to head inside, a surfcasting rod propped against a locker. Jeremiah picks up the rod, flips the bail, traps the line: now he's casting far out into the darkness. And for the first time, he smiles and stays for a while.

Later in front of a ratty old espresso machine, Jeremiah stands there staring at the thing like it's a test. Then his hands begin to move, trying to pack a grind, trying to fit it in and turning on the steam and then he hears coffee brewing.

_-Break_

Jeremiah is alone doing chin-ups on the deck rail. He's still bandaged and the wounds must hurt like hell, but he's pushing himself. Using the pain, bathing in it, maybe even hoping that it will make time go faster.

A chess board. Wooden pieces jumbled in a box. Jeremiah hesitates, takes a black knight from the box and lingers for a moment; then places it on the board. He's off and running. He knows this. Placing pieces faster and faster still setting it up. Jeremiah stands before a pitted, tarnished, cataract of a mirror. Staring at himself and then the chess board. And then he speaks.

"I don't know who I am anymore. But I remember what I'm searching for: the truth" say's Jeremiah in perfect French.

"I will tell the world really destroyed so many lives. If you know who I am, please start running" said Jeremiah in perfect Dutch.

"I'm coming for you Clovis, you and then the rest of your deranged family".

_-Break_

Sailors are hauling in the nets. Jeremiah still bandaged, buthealing, is working beside them. Earning his keep. Gettinghealthy. Today there finally stooping at Japan. Jeremiah watches a small, colorful fishing village. The boat is motoring towards it.Jeremiah buttons up some borrowed clothes. Hiruzen stands near by and pullssome cash from his pocket and offers the money.

"It's not much, but it should get you to the Britannian settlement" said Hiruzen.

"I won't forget this" says Jeremiah.

_-Break _

When they came ashore Jeremiah left the village as fast as he could and made a beeline for the closes train station. It is part of the Britannian settlement and most Japanese can't enter, look for him he doesn't look like an 'eleven' as Britannians like to call the Japanese people. Jeremiah easily slips past the station security and is now at the ticket window.

"Thank you for your business sir" says the female ticket agent, "Do you require anymore assistance?"

"No but thank you" says Jeremiah with a smile.

A bullet train speeds through the Britannian settlement. Jeremiah sits in the train and looks out his window. He stares at the Britannian settlement and then the Japanese ghetto. People all around him families, businessmen, and other normal people going about their lives. Jeremiah turns back to the window, but he's not watching the scenery, he's looking at his reflection. So lost. His face suddenly plunged into darkness as the train bombs into a tunnel...

Jeremiah sits in the train and observes one of the televisions in the train. He sees an image of a man called Wombosi. He's a man of African decent and a dictator. He's in some sort of throne room. And he's angry. Bodyguards and a translator hovering nervously around him. An interview conducted by a reporter named Diethard Ried.

"...no, no, no - the time is not right, my enemies are too strong. I'm telling you to wait for this, you understand? I'm telling you this, and I'm making a warning to all those peoples out there that think that my powers have become so weak that they can play with me as they wish. You will see, I will tell you when the evidence is clear. Then you will have a story. My old friends will hear about themselves" said Wombosi angrily.

'_Politics never change' _thought Jeremiah as he exited the train.

Wandering through the terminal. Passing a pizza place closing up for the night. Jeremiah checks how much money he has. Just enough to stop at an ATM. For now Jeremiah is walking aimlessly. After a while he sit on a bench trying to get comfortable. It's chilly but this will have to do until morning. Just settling in he see's two Britannian cops coming up to him.

"Can't you read the signs? You filthy eleven" says one of the cops.

"On your feet. Let's go. Right now" said the second.

As soon as Jeremiah makes it to his feet. They're on top of him.

"The park is closed to any eleven. You shouldn't even be here" said the first cop.

"Let's see some identification" says the second.

Jeremiah not sure what to do eyes moving and mouth shut looks at the two.

"Come on. Your papers. Let's go".

"I've lost them. I've" said Jeremiah, "My papers. They are lost"

"Okay. Let's go. Put your hands up" said the first cop.

Pulling his nightstick the first cop smiles, "Come on, hands up, up".

Jeremiah raises his hand slowly and the second cop reaches to pat him down.

"Look, I'm just trying to sleep okay?" said Jeremiah, "I just need to sleep".

The second cop gives a sharp poke with the nightstick, into Jeremiah's back, and that's the last thing he'll remember because with a single turn, spinning, catching the second cop completely off guard, the heel of his hand driving up into the guy's throat and behind him is the first cop trying to reach for his gun. Jeremiah, still turning, all his weight moving in a single fluid attack delivers a sweeping kick and the cop falls catching himself on the bench, trying to fight back but Jeremiah like a machine, just unbelievably fast delivers three swift and powerful punches. The cops head slams into the bench, blood spraying from his nose and he's out cold.

The second cop is writhing on the ground, gasping for air, struggling with his holster. Jeremiah puts his foot down like a vise onto the cops arm, shattering the bone, the cop starts to scream, and then silenced because Jeremiah has the cops own pistol on his forehead right on the edge of pulling the trigger.

"No, please God no, please don't, please no, my Go-" says the cop gasping and pleading.

Jeremiah slams the gun against his temple and this fight is over. Jeremiah stands there. In the silence. Two unconscious cops at his feet. Blood on the ground. He stops cold and moves quickly: he takes the copes radios, guns, badges, money, and one of the cops uniform. Hiding one gun and holstering the other gun Jeremiah reaches for one of the radios his just taken.

"Central" says Jeremiah into the radio.

"Yes officer" responds a voice from the radio.

"Send back up" said Jeremiah, "we have two refrain drug dealers who just took down to cops and are on the lose. I'm pursuing on foot".

"Medical is on route ETA two minutes" responded the voice as Jeremiah walked into the darkness.

'_I'm going to get you' _thought Jeremiah, _'I'm going to get you back for taking my life and Identity from me'._

**-End Chapter **

**Note: please read and review.**


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